A Very Rare Person
by krys10
Summary: The Mother Confessor may not remember exactly who her "friends" are, but she knows a rare person when she sees them. This will be a hybrid of both the show and the books the show was loosely based on, while also being a whole different entity in and of itself. F/F romance
1. Pursuit

Ragged breaths and the clang of armor were the only noise to be heard between the oaks of the forest. Instead of noticing the beauty surrounding her, a feeling of dread washed over the tall and graceful brunette, as she was sure her pursuers were gaining ground, based on how much closer the sounds were. She dared not look back but remained focused on keeping sure footing as she darted between tree trunks and branches. The ache in her legs was beginning to worry her but the thought of her capture from the men following, far outweighed any pain she may have begun to feel. She knew quite well what would befall her if she didn't get away, but she also knew that these were the type of men who enjoyed the hunt, and would not stop until they had caught their prey. And she was very desirable prey indeed.

Her simple, yet elegant, white dress flowed behind her and she prayed to the good spirits that nothing snagged her or caused her to trip. She could ill afford to lose any more ground. The harder she ran, the more she felt like it was hopeless. She could feel the men closing in on her. It was becoming clear that she was not going to be able to outrun them and if she didn't come up with a better solution, she would be too weary to fight them off. She desperately tried to think of what she would be capable of doing against four, well armed, men. It was at that very moment, that something caught her attention. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure running at an angle toward her. She felt a shiver of fear, trickle down her spine at the thought of a fifth man coming for her from a different direction. She abrubtly pivoted in an atrempt to change her own direction, all the while thinking about how quads rarely bring extra men while hunting.

The new pursuer yelled something she couldn't quite make out, but one thing was certain. It was not a man. The voice that came from the figure was decidedly female. She felt herself falter slightly and immediately chastised herself for becomming distracted, even if momentarily. She looked to the side where the woman was and regretted choosing to do so. She saw that the woman was much closer to her then the men were. She knew why too. She was free of any armor or weapons that might weight her down. The only protection she had was skin tight leather, the color of blood.


	2. Friend or Foe

The woman in red was out-pacing her and in the back of her mind she knew there was nothing she would be able to do when the Mord Sith inevitably caught up to her. She was unbelievably fast, and was now close enough that she could hear the creak of leather. And a name. It was unfamiliar but was oddly directed towards her. The blonde woman was also telling her to stop running. Knowing what she did of the Mord Sith and the men accompanying her, that was not an option.

It was at this moment that the terrain decided to go against her. Directly in the path was a fallen trunk, large enough that going over was impossible. With her thoughts focused on those behind and to the side of her, she hadn't seen the obstacle until it was too late. Angry with herself for failing to pay attention, she skidded to a stop mere inches from the hulking mass. As she turned to continue her escape, she saw that the quad had slowed their pursuit. The blonde, however, was right there. She had nowhere left to go. Before the length of her dress had time to settle, she had changed her stance to one she knew all too well. Fists at her sides with her back tall, she prepared herself to unleash the magic that only she could. She was no match for the strength of the other woman, but the Mord Sith stood no chance against the power of a confessor.

"What in the name of the good spirits are you doing?" Concern colored the question, immediately throwing her off. Her usually unreadable face twisted with confusion. "Why are you running away from me? From the quad? If we don't fight them, they will keep coming or send even more!" She was in a defensive position but angled toward the men and not to her. The leather clad woman inched closer to her, keeping her agiel clenched in her fist. The situation wasn't making any sense but the other woman was almost within her reach and all she needed to do was extend her arm and release her hold on her power. She hoped that before the Mord Sith died from having a confessor power used on her, that she would have enough time to defend her from the quad because she would be too weak do it herself.

Time slowed as she raised her hand, her fingertips brushed against the blood red leather, and there was a concussion to the air as the soundless thunder announced the release of her power into the Mord Sith.


End file.
